


Pine Grove

by wneleh



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode: s03e17 Sunday, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wneleh/pseuds/wneleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronon doesn't get Earth.  Originally written for amireal's International Whee Day Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pine Grove

So this was Earth. A compound in a mountain. A stone building filled with old people. And - this place.

The compound hadn't been that impressive. Maybe a bit deeper than what the Genii had, maybe a bit more high-tech than what some other folks he'd met could swing, but a bunker was a bunker and good mostly for suffocating you.

And that stone building - church, Sheppard and the others called it, but the word didn't mean anything to him - what was the point of that? Why build for drafts and discomfort? The place even leaked. Though it was more the people that had gotten to him than the building, people who said they were Dr. Beckett's kin or friends but told stories about him that made him out to be some sort of wuss.

Those people hadn't known shit, and Ronon had wanted to stand up on the wooden bench and scream at them. But whatever made everyone in his galaxy understand everyone else didn't work on Earth - he understood the natives, but nobody except the people he'd come here with, plus a few of the military types they'd met the first day here, understood him. It was frustrating as hell. So he'd hissed to John, to Major Lorne, "Say something!" over and over, but Sheppard'd just shaken his head. Lorne, at least, had looked like he was a little embarrassed, but he'd also stayed silent.

When McKay'd stood to speak, Ronon had thought he was going to set the record straight about Dr. Beckett, but Rodney'd just said some shit about him being a brilliant scientist. Yeah, whatever.

Experiencing Scotland in the rain took two days. And they weren't going to be heading home for another five, so Lorne, Zelenka, and Dr. Cole were off now with their families and Sheppard and McKay were stuck with him. So now he was touring their home continent, stop number one being McKay's sister's.

Jeanie had a kid, and the 'County Fair' was almost over and they hadn't gone yet, so here he was. Sitting on a hill with his back against a sticky tree while little brown needles imbedded themselves in his pants. McKay had said something about not being in the mood for a fair, but Sheppard had said it would be good for all of them.

Whatever.

It had gotten darker since he'd come up here, and the music had gotten louder. McKay had 'phoned' him at dusk and told him Jeanie and her family were headed home, and would he please come and try this game because he'd be a natural at it.

No thanks.

He couldn't wrap his mind around people paying money to throw darts at balloons so that the high-risk guy running the thing would give them some fabric sewed and stuffed to look like some Earth animal or the other. 

He couldn't wrap his mind around how young they all were. Even the old people were young. Laughing. Holding hands. Making out, even.

"There you are."

Shit, Sheppard. And McKay right behind him.

"Mind if we join you?" John asked, then dropped to the ground next to him without waiting for a reply. "Rodney wants you to do this knife-throwing game. Don't do it; it's rigged."

Rigged? "That's theft," he said. "You going to step in?" Like he really wanted to deal with this sort of thing right now; but maybe it was part of Sheppard's job.

"Yes, yes, it's rigged," said Rodney, "but it's perfectly legal, and I know you can beat it."

"Why would I want to?" he asked.

"Rodney never won at that sort of thing when he was kid, and now he wants to live vicariously through you," said John.

"Well, yes," said Rodney, "but I have a more noble goal. I'll give what you win to Madison."

"And Rodney was hoping you'd let him claim he'd won it," said Sheppard.

"Well - Colonel, that's brilliant!"

"Not interested," said Ronon.

"You okay?" asked John.

Ronon shrugged. "Sure." But... "I just don't get this place."

"What's not to get?" asked Rodney, settling in next to John.

"All these people, out in the open like this. None of them armed, far as I can tell."

"People are the same everywhere," said John. "I'm sure most folks down there have problems I wouldn't want. But a fair like this is a place you can let things go for a while. Can't you just drink it in, enjoy it for a bit for what it is?"

But what was there to take in except too many pointless lights, a clash of unfamiliar noise, and the fumes of an army of inefficient generators cut with the smell of frying oil? He inhaled again, more deeply. Yeah, he did know this combination of smells. Military festivals when he was a kid, before... Man, he did not need to go there! But the smells were the same, though the people here were louder. 

"Why didn't you tell the truth about Dr. Beckett yesterday? Why did you let those people talk about him like he was some sort of wimp?" he asked.

"Everything about Atlantis is classified," said John. "And those were their stories. Who are we to debate them?"

How could he explain this? "You all make such a big deal about death," he said. "You'd think you'd want to get the facts straight."

"You didn't have funerals on Sateda?" Rodney asked.

"Not at the end," said Ronon.

This was where one of them was going to say that, as long as 100,000,000 people lived in his memory, they weren't truly dead, and then he was going to have to hurt them.

But instead John stood up. "Ever been on a Ferris Wheel?"

"Of course not," said Ronon.

"Then come on."

"I'll pass."

"Dex, you've seen how we do death here. How about checking out how we do life?"

Huh. "Got me there," he said, and accepted John's hand up.

"Great," said Rodney. "And on the way..."

"Hey, how come you aren't pestering me to take a try?" John asked as they brushed off their pants.

"I'm playing the odds."

"Rodney, I grew up going to this sort of thing every chance I could. I'll lay good money I can take Ronon at the game of your choice. Or his choice."

Rodney turned to him. "He's challenging your manhood. You have to accept."

Together they walked down into the light.


End file.
